One Fiancee To Go, Please

In the low light, he looked relieved, then oddly troubled, as if he were having second thoughts. Fiddling with his seat belt, he said, “Make sure, Tess. You don’t have to, you know. I may have made you feel obligated, but you’re not.”

“It’s just a white lie, really,” she said, trying to reassure him as well as herself.

“Right, just one little white lie. Who can it hurt?”

“Certainly not the Fausts,” she agreed a little desperately. “After all, how can our pretending to be engaged possibly hurt them?”

“It will just be one less gift for them to buy come June,” he added with a smile.

“Then it’s settled.”

Once they reached an agreement there seemed little reason not to say good-night, but Tess hesitated until the silence became awkward.

“Well, I…” she said at the same time Jack began to speak. They both laughed a little tightly, then she said, “Go on, please.”

“I was just going to say that I’m flying back to Boston on Sunday night. I need to pack up my things and get my affairs in order.” He pulled a business card from his wallet and scribbled something on the back before handing it to her. “Here’s a number where you can reach me in the evenings if anything comes up. If you need me before Sunday call me at the Saint Sebastian.”

She nodded and tucked the card inside her purse.

“Well, I suppose I had better get going. I have a test tomorrow night that I haven’t studied for yet.”

“Test?”

She beamed a smile in his direction and informed him grandly, “Your fiancée, Jack Maris, is a college student, who, after this semester, will be only twelve credits shy of a degree in journalism.”

“Really?”

“Really. What did you think, that my aspirations stopped at being a waitress at Earl’s Place?”

Tess’s words held only teasing humor, but Jack realized he didn’t know what she aspired to be. He didn’t know much about her at all except that she had gorgeous hair, filled out a size-six dress with the perfection of a fashion model, and blushed prettily with only the slightest provocation. But those were superficial things. He surprised himself by wanting to know more about Tess Donovan. Much more.

She opened the door and got out, then poked her head back inside the car. The heavy curtain of her hair dangled down with all the invitation of a bull-fighter’s cape. He wondered if she realized how sexy she was, and decided that she didn’t when the smile she offered was more shy than sensual.

“Thank you for a very memorable evening, Jack.”

“Memorable,” he murmured as he watched her walk away.

Chapter Three

Dawn had barely broken the next morning when Jack donned sweats and set out on a five-mile run. The Saint Sebastian’s bellhop had mapped out the route and assured Jack it was scenic. Jack didn’t care about scenery. He wanted to clear his head, and he generally found that a punishing run helped him do that. These days he had a lot mucking up his orderly life.